Today I was on a odyssey with Mr. Swiss: not quite, I did not need the suitcase and it was a car thing. We had made an appointment at the garage to have the Winter tyres removed and the Summer tyres mounted. In the meanwhile we had a coffee in a restaurant whilst waiting and then Mr. Swiss returned to the garage and left me all on my own in one of those Swiss villages which seem to be a garbage place for buldings and houses where you are glad you do not live. Anyhow there was a river running thorugh it, the River Emme, and so I went on a photo safari whilst waiting to be picked up by the chauffer. More tomorrow as I also had a little adventure involving the police and an Indian gentleman.

Now this is about a suitcase of course. I have possessed many suitcases over the years. They used to be an inconvenience and also very precare. Perhaps the handle broke at the wrong time in the wrong place, or a tear occurred somewhere. Today everything is much more sensible. The have handles that you can pull out and  wheels and it is just like visiting the supermarket, but on a larger scale.

I have one suitcase, see photo, which is now parked in the hobby room, together with Mr. Swiss drums and a few hundred books. I generally need it once a year when it goes on a plane to London. Last year it even went to Germany on a train. I notice that most of us are proudly showing photos of our suitcases today.

Have you ever travelled somewhere and your suitcase decided to travel somewhere else? Now that is not very good. I arrived at London city airport and stood in line with the others waiting for my trusty suitcase companion to arrive on the conveyer belt. I have done it many times, and have seen many lonely suitcases just revolving and no-one claiming them. I too have problems recognising my suitcase. As I said I arrived and the suitcase did not arrive. I was a  suitcase neglected person. I reported to the luggage office and they told me that the plane was now empty and there was no more luggage. I asked what do I do? They called Zürich airport, but my suitcase was not there. This lead to the conclusion that my suitcase was on a walkabout somewhere in the world. My friend was waiting outside the arrival place and I was still in the luggage receiving place. She called me on my iPhone (yes those wonderful life saving devices where you do not feel so alone without a suitcase) and I told her I was still sorting things.

They took my particulars, gave me an e-mail address to check: the e-mail of lost luggage it seems, and I left the airport. Thank goodness my friend had a supply of new underwear for me and a spare toothbrush. My mistake was that in my wandering suitcase I had all my medicine – diabetes and cholesterol tablets.

When I arrived at her house I checked the mail address. My suitcase was registered but no news. This adventure lasted two days. On the second day I got a telephone call from London city airport baggage claim, my suitcase was found. The e-mail address also adviseed me that my suitcase was now on its way to me. It seems it was enjoying the sun in Lisbon which is in Potugal. My suitcase made it to Portugal, and if it had stayed on the plane, it might even have arrived in London, but it was enjoying the Portuguese charm I suppose.

In the meanwhile I was still alive, despite a slightly higher sugar concentration in my blood. My body had not yet noticed that the cholesterol was also buiding up. I survived. The next morning a van pulled up at my friend’s house where I was staying. A very nice young man, his famile probably originating from the Caribbean part of the world where the British had a few colonies, pulled my missing suitcase out of the van. I could have put my arms around him and kissed him, but being british, I was composed. I did not go down on my knees to thank him, but I gave him one of my big “glad to see you” smiles. He departed and I began to unpack my suitcase.

At last my own underwear, my comfortable house shoes and my own nightdress, although my friend had a few spare nightdresses and I was wearing one of hers.

The lady at the airport baggage place told me, when I was slightly going into hysterics about the missing suitcase, that putting medicine in a suitcase was not advised. Apparently it was written somewhere on the airline instructions about “how to fly”. I learnt my lesson and since I always have a separate bag with me containing all my medicine, as well as a plastic continer for soap, toothpaste, a toothbrush and any other bathroom supplies. Have now made a note to include house shoes as well.

Oh and to add insult injury, when I returned to Zürich airport my luggage again made the disappearing trick, until one of the airport staff asked me if the lonely suitcase standing in the middle of the arrival hall could be mine. Of course it was. The problem was that a plane arrived from Israel at the exact time as mine from London. Whereas we Swiss had no problem with passport control, it seemed that the Israelis had massive problems and I had to wait at least an hour in the queue until it was dealt with. My suitcase was waiting for me, searching for me, but eventually we were reunited. Do you ever have sort of horror trips when you go anywhere?

Daily Prompt: Suitcase